


Otterly Confusing

by zilia



Series: Bar Fics [2]
Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Crack, Deanie, Gerald - Freeform, In-Jokes, M/M, cameos by bar beans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-09 01:03:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4327902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zilia/pseuds/zilia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zach and Chris attend a very special party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Otterly Confusing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [satismagic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/satismagic/gifts).



> This was written to celebrate the first anniversary of the Pinto Bar, a very special place. Dedicated to the amazing JunoMagic, without whom we would have none of this.
> 
> WARNING: this is unlikely to make much sense if you do not frequent the Pinto Bar (which, hey, you totally should do! It's a great place!).

"Fancy seeing you here."

Chris looked up from his drink to see Zach standing on the stairs, carrying a paper bag that looked to be full of baked goods.

"What are you drinking? Looks fancy."

Chris took another sip and gave a sigh of satisfaction. "Blood orange martini. I've never tasted anything so succulent."

Zach walked over to join him at the table and brandished the bag in front on him.

"Cookie things?"

"Not just. I've got blueberry pie and a burrata sandwich in here too. I know how your blood sugar gets." He tore open the bag and used it as a makeshift plate, spreading the food on it so that he and Chris could share. In return, Chris proffered the glass, and Zach lifted it to his lips.

"Yeah, that's good. Might go and get myself one. Looks a bit busy upstairs though."

"Why are they always having a party when we're in here?" Chris asked, through a mouthful of sandwich that was so big that he struggled to swallow it.

"They just seem to like celebrating," Zach said, ignoring the off-putting sight of Chris Pine eating and focusing instead on his bewitching blue eyes.

There was a moment when they both seemed to recall the previous time they had met in the bar at exactly the same time. Zach grinned, and Chris blushed, the heat spreading from his cheeks to his hairline and down to his collarbones like the rays of a sunrise.

"You look beautiful when you blush like that," Zach said, his voice suddenly husky, reaching out to take Chris's hand around the sandwich. After a moment's fierce internal debate, Chris released the sandwich so that he could entwine his fingers with Zach's. They sat like that for long moments, alternately looking deeply into each other's eyes and giggling self-consciously.

In the tank, Gerald rolled his eyes and huffed out a blubbery sigh. Deanie the otter, who had recently finished the _Harry Potter_ series and who was still in mourning for Hedwig and Remus, took this as a sign that It Was About To Happen Again, Probably. Gerald had warned him about this.

 

 

Upstairs, the party was in full swing. Someone had just arrived on a dragon, which they had considerately parked outside in the designated area, and had gone rummaging in the broom closet for their whip. A small brightly coloured lizard and a blackbird were holding court at a table in the corner, having an impassioned conversation about space exploration. There was a sizeable group of people singing, with the unmistakable hum of a low C reverberating around the bar. A video screen displaying a tasteful yet explicit gay pornographic film was flickering on a wall-mounted screen, with commentary from one of the patrons, and a game of Cards Against Humanity was getting increasingly raucous over by the bar.

In short, the day was going swimmingly.

 

 

Gerald, who did not appreciate puns about swimming, was having a silent but furious argument with Deanie, mostly conducted through the medium of eyebrow raises and watery sighs. Finally, Deanie relented, and flopped over to the edge of the tank so that he could join Zach and Chris, who had progressed to the floor. It took them a while to look up from the kisses they were sharing, which were, Deanie thought, both unnecessarily loud and involving far too much flailing of limbs, but eventually his chirrups and squeaks caught their attention, and they broke apart.

"What is that?" Chris asked.

"It's an otter. Hey, little guy!" Zach said, holding out his hand and beckoning. Deanie, who had seen where that hand had been, declined, and instead flopped towards the door in the opposite corner of the room.

"I think he wants us to follow him," Chris said, getting up and re-zipping his pants. "Come on, Zach!"

Zach shuffled his feet back into his shoes, yanked down his t-shirt, and followed, figuring that anything that would cause Chris to abandon not only sex but also a killer sandwich had to be worthwhile. He quickly followed Chris across the room and through the door, and found himself in a gigantic library, with a high ceiling and walls lined with books. The otter was chirruping happily, leaving damp paw prints all over the polished wooden floor. Zach blinked in the light, which was a stark contrast with the soothing dark of the manatee's basement, and squinted to see the titles on some of the spines.

"I don't recognise any of these authors," he said, frowning. "Most of them only have one name."

"Let's see?" Chris said, walking over to join him. He picked up a book at random, flicked through the pages, and then flushed beet red again.

"What?" Zach asked, peering over his shoulder and gently nibbling at Chris's earlobe. His eyes caught the phrase ""You're such a lovely little cockwhore for me," Zach says, as he pushes Chris against him", and his eyebrows shot up as all of his blood simultaneously dropped to his cock.

"Is...is that a story about us?" he whispered, and Chris, whose face was incandescent, gave a small nod.

"A _sexy_ story about us?"

"Looks like it."

"Why is there a sexy story about us in a gigantic library of the bar with a manatee in the basement of which there is no record on the internet?"

Chris shrugged. "It's kinda hot, no?"

Actually, it was _very_ hot. So hot that Zach forgot about how creepy it was and was temporarily deprived of the power of speech. Chris, meanwhile, had replaced the book on the shelf and was flicking through another one.

"Hey," he said conversationally, "In this one, we're apparently into some fairly hardcore BDSM."

This was not helping Zach regain mobility. He picked up a third book, which contained a story about himself and Chris raising a baby together. It was actually pretty compelling, not to mention heartwarming, but he tore himself away to look up and take in the sheer number of stories. There had to be at least a thousand books there. All those stories...

He was distracted from his musing when Chris's teeth sunk gently, but purposefully, into the back of his neck. He carefully replaced the book on the shelf, turned around, and prepared to let Chris ravish him against a wall full of erotic fiction in which they were the lead characters.

 

 

They made their way back into the bar several hours later looking extremely dishevelled.

The party was still going on around them. In fact, most of the people didn't even seem to notice they were there. Two of the singers were now having a pun-off at the corner table, while the bartender was sitting and rolling her eyes at them. The lizard was being worshipped as some kind of overlord by a girl wearing a t-shirt with a zombie on it. A young man was tearfully relating an encounter he'd had to a group of sympathetic listeners, which seemed to be about a handsome couple who frequented the movie theatre where he worked, and a compassionate-looking doctor was passing him a packet of Kleenex.

They reached the door of the bar, and Zach said, "well, I'd better get going," without any real conviction.

"Hey, let me take your number?" Chris asked. "It would be great to see you again."

"Sure, where's your phone? I'll just program it in."

Chris patted his pockets, and his face fell.

"Oh, shoot, I don't have it. I'm always leaving it places. Um...hang on." He rummaged in his jeans for a moment and triumphantly pulled out a scrap of paper. "You got a pen?"

Zach shook his head.

"Huh. Well, I bet someone here was one we can borrow." He leaned back into the bar. "Hey, does anyone have a pen?"

There was silence and a lot of blank looks, and then a male voice answered, "yeah, I do, just a second."

There was an odd blooping noise, sounds of mingled confusion and interest from the onlookers, and then Chris decided, wincing, that maybe he'd just memorise Zach's number.

 


End file.
